A daily almanac of events and people I admire and appreciate. All things, and the people who did things, that were WORTH DOING! Songs and Cartoons and near-insane ramblings by me, too.
*This is part of a semi-regular series in this blog "A 'Slight' History of Golden Age Comic Books: Super Heroes". To catch up on the other posts, click the label in the right hand column.
Much ballyhoo has long been made that the Golden Age of Comic Books began with the publication of Action Comics #1 and Superman's first appearance therein. While it's true that Superman was the major selling point and was the break-away character whose soon-to-be-burgeoning-popularity would spark the Super Hero revolution to come over the next decade (and well into today for that matter), there was another Super Hero that made his debut in that very same issue.
Zatara, the Magician! I find it a little ironic (though not a lot, really) that, later in the Superman mythos, the only other thing beside Kryptonite that could affect him was magic. The power held by the character who shared his debut.
Well, maybe it isn't that magic can harm him, so much as he's easily fooled by it. But that's just my take.
Zatara was really just a rip off of Mandrake the Magician from the newspapers. He dressed the same and even had a big mook of a sidekick named Tong to assist him, much like Mandrake's Lothar. In this debut story, the only real differences are the color of the lining of his cape (Mandrake's is red) and Zatara is sans moustache. The moustache later came though.
The real difference is that while Mandrake's magic was all centered around his knack for quick hypnotism of his subjects to create illusions, Zatara actually had magical powers. His spells are cast by saying his commands backwards.
OK. Enough dissertation. While Superman's premier story has been re-printed and re-printed over and over, the Zatara story hasn't. Here it is to read for yourself, "The Mystery of the Freight Train Robberies"!
Enjoy!
Ta Da! Magic First Aid Kit:
Zatara's arch enemy...the beautiful and ruthless Tigress! You can tell she's the Tigress by her stripedy shirt:
Check it out! He's talkin' backwards!
Zatara is handy at the fisticuffs too!
You can tell The Tigress is evil. She kicks a man when he's down.
Zatara, of course, is not below Mandrake's hypnotism trick. He just says it backwards.
He's not above a little gun play if need be either.
...I mean, for real. Check his shooting the bad guys! Not gnitoohs, but shooting!
I think panel 3 here is a typo. Tigress' gun appears to become a banana, not a bullet. If I had a dirty mind, I'd wonder where she disappeared so fast to with the phallic fruit.
Oh wait, I do have a dirty mind.
And so, the Tigress escapes to challenge Zatara again. So begin the EPIC adventures of comicdoms favorite magical Super Hero.
If you don't count Sargon the Sorceror. Or Ibis the Invincible. Or Doctor Fate. Or...
Oh hell. Let's face it. Zatara is best remembered for just 3 things.
1. He was a rip off of Mandrake.
2. Because he was one of the first Super Heroes ever, retconning in the Modern Age of Comic Books sometimes references Zatara being the man who helped train Batman. Though I believe this has been retconned out of continuity at present.
3. And the most important thing that Zatara is remembered for is his daughter, Zatanna who debuted in the 1960's in the Silver Age of Comic Books:
Is if creepy that a man's legacy be carried in his daughters fish-net stockings?
Yes. But, "HubbaHubba" who cares! Check out them gams!
Wow...you never know who's reading this thing. The solitude of working in cyberspace makes you forget sometimes that you really are connecting with people.
The authors name is Clay Eals and the book is called "Facing the Music". It looks like a very good read and seems very lovingly put together. I'm definitely going to grab myself a copy.
The book is going into it's second printing and was the winner of the 2008 IPPY (Independent Publishers Award) Silver for biography.
Thanks for the kind e-mail Clay. I look forward to reading your book.
Born this day in 1948, today would have been Steve Goodman's 61st birthday.
Steve was a singer songwriter from Chicago who's most famous song was "The City of New Orleans", a huge hit for Arlo Guthrie. His own stage style was an exuberant ball of energy, who's spontaneity and flare with a guitar (almost an extension of his own body) could electrify an audience to a fever pitch and leave them happy, exhausted and with a satisfied grin...a refractory state very close to post-orgasmic. In the 1970's he would be the opening act for people like Kris Kristofferson in his rock & roll/country/folk/sex symbol heyday and Steve Martin in his monster "wild & crazy" height doing stadium shows. Kristofferson playfully says he eventually stopped hiring Steve because he got tired of reading reviews like, "Kristofferson's show was OK...but MAN, that Steve Goodman is GREAT!".
I'm no idiot, so I'm giving you me singing a Steve Goodman song before I show you Steve himself. I ain't gonna follow him. A smart man wouldn't even put himself in the same post as Steve. OK...maybe I AM an idiot...but, hell, it's my blog.
Here's Steve showing us what a guitar is for. An old song made famous by Al Jolson.
Steve wrote all kinds of songs. Funny songs, sad songs, poignant songs, tragic songs, happy songs. Folk, Country, Blues, Jazz songs. Songs about himself and songs about all of us.
There was always something lacking for me in his studio albums. Too '70's singer-songwriter-overproduced-treacly-sugary-sweet sounding for my ear...but his live stuff...Wow. Always great.
Awwwww hell...here's another...after all, it's his birthday.
Steve was diagnosed with leukemia when he was 11 years old and battled it all his life. He nicknamed himself "Cool Hand Leuk". Another life-long battle was that he was a Chicago Cubs fan. He even wrote the song, "Go, Cubs, Go" which they still play at the end of winning games and that the entire town of Chicago loves to sing along with.
The Cubs were last in the World Series in 1945, three years before Steve was born and in 1984 they made it into the pennant race. They played their first post-season game in 39 years.
Steve was supposed to sing the National Anthem at that game, but he died 8 days before it happened.
He gave them a better song though.
Steve's ashes were sprinkled over Wrigley Field.
Steve was 36 years old when he died. But he packed so much energy, enthusiasm for life and music and smiles on other peoples faces into that short span, you'd need the "jaws of life" to pry it all back out.
We should all try and be this excited and happy about something for just one day.
Let's try it. It would be a good tribute to Steve.
Worst case is, you had a good time for a bit.
Steve met John Prine way back about 1970 in "The Earl of Old Town" in Chicago and they became the tightest of friends from then on. They'd often write and perform together. John Prine describes Steve Goodman as "The guy who makes fun of my guitar playing to my face and brags about my songwriting behind my back.".
A song they'd often do together is John Prine's "Souvenirs" and John still does this to this day, dedicating it to Steve. He often says that "Steve had a way of playing this with me that made it sound like I was playing all the good parts.". The best way to close this is with...
Talk to you soon.
Talk to you soon.
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